


School Days

by Elf_Kid



Category: Megamind (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Gen, Megamind goes to school, outside perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16931082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elf_Kid/pseuds/Elf_Kid
Summary: Megamind and Metro Man went to school together when they were kids. One of their classmates tells what he remembers.





	1. The First Day of School

“Okay, whenever you’re ready.”

“Do I talk into the mic?”

“What you’re doing right now is fine. So, Mr. Alexander Farworth, you claim you’ve been friends with Metro Man since childhood?”

“Yeah, we go way back. We were kids together, went to Boy Scouts in the same troop, and even today we still keep in touch since I moved down south-”

“Yes, we’ll cover that later in the interview. I understand you were also acquainted with Megamind, back in school?”

“Well… Megamind went to the same school and Metro Man and I for a few months in the first grade, but I wouldn’t say I knew him. I don’t think anybody knew him, really.”

“Please, start at the beginning.”

“The Lil’ Gifted School for Lil’ Gifted Children was a very exclusive private school. We were told that they only admitted the most talented students from the best sorts of families, with a small class size- and only one class- in order to ensure that each student got the individual attention they deserved. The tuition was… well, not everyone can afford that kind of tuition. Both my parents are high-end lawyers, and I think even they had a bit of sticker shock! The School House itself was really unusual- it was bright red, wooden, and had four rooms, total, counting the bathrooms and the main classroom. I think it was meant to appeal to nostalgia for the ‘Good Old Days’, whatever that means.”  
________________________________  
“Alright class, my name is Mrs. Jones,” the teacher said. “Welcome to the Lil’ Gifted School For Lil’ Gifted Children. I am very excited to have you all here today. Now, I am going to call attendance. When I say your name, you come up to the front of the class and tell us a little bit about yourself. Now,” she said, looking at her list, “Wayne Scott?”

“Here!” Said Wayne as he floated to the front of the class. 

I mean, he literally floated. I know that these days you see Metro Man flying around all the time, on the news or patrolling the city, so maybe we sometimes forget what a big deal this is. But back then, it was like seeing a miracle, or a real-life magic show. This kid in my class, this kid I would eat lunch with and struggle through the multiplication tables with… was flying. No wings, no noise, he didn’t even seem to put any effort into defying gravity. He was- ha! He was super-cool, right from the start. 

He came to the front of the class with a crooked grin and said “Hi everyone! My name is Wayne Scott, and I was born here in Metro City. I like dogs, and music, and sports,”

“How come you can fly?” A kid in front of me- I think it was Jason- asked. “Are you like Peter Pan or Superman or something?” The class stared at Wayne in rapt attention. Perhaps he would share the secret of flight with us.

“I’ve always been able to fly,” he replied, ducking his head a little. “It’s a gift. Everyone has gifts, and it’s important to use them right,” he said with the air of someone reciting something he’s heard many times before.

“Can you teach me to fly?” asked Jason.

“No, but… if you sit on your desk, I can give you a ride.”

“I want a ride!” a girl shouted, clamoring onto her desk.

“Me too, me too me too!”

“YES! Take us flying!”

“I asked first, so I get first dibs!” Jason shouted, now standing precariously on his desk. In a moment, everyone was climbing onto desks as well, and I was shouting for a ride along with the rest. Who would pass on a chance like that?

“Now class! the teacher cried leaning over her desk. “Let’s all try and calm down! Get off- YOUNG LADY GET DOWN THIS INSTANT! Children, this is not the time for games! Settle down or I’ll- WHOOP!” Wayne lifted Mrs. Smith’s desk into the air, with the teacher still on it! Everyone started cheering. “AAH! Be careful! Don’t- your Father will be hearing about this… WAYNE SCOTT…!”

The door opened, and everyone went quiet.  
________________________________________________

He was flanked by a pair of armed guards.

His wrists were in chains, and he was dressed in a bright orange prison uniform.

He carried a sphere of water with a fish- a very angry-looking fish with very big, very sharp teeth- inside it.

His face was the right size but his head was twice- maybe three times- as big as it should have been.

His eyes were huge, acid green, and he stared at everyone- Wayne Scott in particular- in silence.

And he was blue. Not white, or pinkish, or brown or black or yellow or red or any natural color for a person to be. He was as blue as a crayon, or the sky, or… some other very blue thing. And he was standing in the door of our school house.

The teacher was the first to speak. 

“Hello,” she said, a little shakily, as she slid off the desk. “My name is Mrs. Jones, and I’m the teacher here at the Lil’ Gifted School for Lil’ Gifted Children. And this must be John Doe?

“Yes, this is he,” a guard replied. “You already know the situation, of course, and the paperwork is taken care of, so we’re just here to drop him off and make sure everything goes smoothly.”

“Yes, of course. We were all just… getting to know one another when you arrived.” The guards nodded, blank faced, as they began to unchain their prisoner. I tensed, but he didn’t do anything when the chains were gone. He just stood there. The guards left. Mrs. Jones looked at the strange new kid, then surveyed the rest of the classroom. 

“Alright, everyone back in your seats! Wayne Scott, can you please put my desk back in its proper place?” He did so, and then he put everyone else’s desks back as well. The teacher turned to the blue kid, who still hadn’t moved from the entryway. 

“Young man, please come to the front of the class. Tell us your name and little bit about yourself.” Her eyes hardened. “No funny business.” The blue creature nodded and moved to the front of the room. For a moments, he seemed to shrink, then he straightened his back, squared his soldiers, and addressed the class.

“My name is John Doe, and this is Minion,” he said, holding up the fanged fish. “We are here to pursue our ed-u-cat-ion in a more convent-ional setting, so that we can more easily enter society as solid citizens!” He smiled. It was a slightly manic expression.

“What’s wrong with your head?” The boy glared at the class, trying to identify the speaker. The fish- Minion- bared its teeth and almost seemed to growl.

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with my head. It is entirely functional.”

Someone in the back row asked, “If there’s nothing wrong with your head, how come it’s so swollen? And how come you’re blue?”

“That’s enough questions for now! Remember, everyone in class gets a chance to introduce themselves, and we’re already behind schedule. John, go find a desk and sit down. You in the front row, stand up- no, don’t have to leave your desk- and tell us a little bit about yourself. And class, there are to be no more interruptions or questions while your classmates are introducing themselves, got it?”

“Yes, Mrs. Jones,” we chorused. John Doe scanned the room, the sat down in an empty desk in the middle of the third row. The kids at the desks immediately to the left and right quietly leaned away. When he leaned forward to tap the shoulder of girl in front of him, she shrieked. The teacher scolded them both for causing a disturbance, and John mumbled that he had just wanted to ask for a pencil. The girl in front of him- Mindy, I think- scootched her chair forward a few inches.

By lunch time, there was a five foot gap between John’s chair and everyone else’s.

After lunch, Mrs. Jones told him to sit in the back row. Wayne volunteered to put the desks back in order.


	2. Fish-Ball & Lasers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a disagreement about the importance of sharing, and an incident involving a laser.

_“So, you mentioned before that Megamind brought a fish he called ‘Minion’ to school on the first day.  Can you tell me more about that?”_

_“It wasn’t just the first day.  Blue carried that fish around with him everywhere.  Until… there was this one incident, in the second or third week of school, I think...”_

 

It was recess time at the ‘Lil Schoolhouse, and all the children were out in the yard, doing a fairly good job of keeping themselves entertained despite the complete lack of swings, slide, or junglegym.  A few girls were jumping rope and trying to invent a new verse of “Miss Mary Mack”. Another group of kids was playing tag. Off to the sidelines, near the fence, a blue-skinned boy in an orange jumpsuit watched.  In his lap he held a clear sphere that held a live fish and some water. Occasionally, he’d whisper something to the fish. If the fish said anything in reply, no one else heard.

A trio of playmates approached the strange boy.  Wayne Scott, Alex, and Jeremy were close friends, and they had agreed to try and include John Doe (aka ‘Blue’, ‘Weirdo’, ‘Blueberry Head’, and ‘Freak’) in their game today.  Besides, they wanted to see if he would let them play with that fish!

“Hey, Blue.”  The boy looked up, and narrowed his eyes at the group.

“What do you want, _Wayne_?”

“We just want to ask about your fish!  How come you bring it to school all the time?  And why do you keep it in a glass ball, don’t fish bowls work just as well?”  Blue scowled.

“ _Minion_ attends school because he wants to pursue an ed-u-cat-ion, same as I do.   _He_ lives in a sphere because it’s a more practical shape then a bowl, and because this planet doesn’t have enough water for swimming to be a practical means of travel.”

“O… kay.  Can I hold him?”  Jeremy asked, stepping forward.  Blue backed away, holding Minion.

“I’d… rather you didn’t.  He doesn’t like other people holding him.”  He had backed himself into a wall. The trio moved closer, cutting off his escape.

“I just want to hold him for a minute!  Come on, it’s not like I’ll drop him or anything,” Jeremy said.

“The teacher did say we’re supposed to share our toys, remember?”  Wayne added. “We’re just asking you to share. It’s no big deal.”

“Minion is not a TOY!”  Blue growled. “And I do not have to share anything with you if I don’t want to.”

“Come one, don’t be like that,” Wayne said, drawing closer.  Blue pressed himself against the wall with Minion held tightly in his arms.  “We just want to look at it for a minute,” he said, grabbing the sphere and holding it aloft.

“GIVE HIM BACK!” Blue screamed, lunging towards Wayne.  He hovered out of reach.

“Careful, Blue, or I might drop it!  Hey Jeremy, catch!” Wayne tossed the sphere over John’s head, and Jeremy caught it with a grunt: that things was heavier than it looked.

  
“Come on Blue, what’s the matter?”  Jeremy crowed. “Looking for something?”  He tossed the sphere to Alex, just as Blue was about to reach him.

“Catch!” Alex shouted, throwing the sphere back to Wayne.  Blue gave a strangled scream. Other children started to notice the disturbance.

“Pass it over here, Wayne!” A girl yelled, jump-rope forgotten.

“Alright!  Fish-Ball!” Someone shouted.  The other kids began to chant as John ran frantically from one side of the yard to another trying to reclaim his fish.

“Fish-Ball!  Fish-Ball! Fish-Ball!  Fish-Ball!”

Inside the sphere, Minion spun dizzily, turning all around and unable to right himself before he was once again thrown into the air and caught by another child.  

“Fish-Ball! Fish-Ball! Fish-Ball!”

“GIVE HIM BACK!  GIVE HIM BACK RIGHT NOW!”

“Come on, Blue, we’re just having a little fun!”  Wayne said, casually tossing the sphere from one hand to the other.  “What’s the big deal? You’re always saying how the fish should be included in things…”  Blue _snarled_ as he made a running leap towards the place where the other boy hovered.

“You’re KILLING HIM!” He screamed.  “I- I’ll _make you sorry if you don’t give him back!  Give him back or I’ll_ MAKE _you PAY!_ ”

“WHAT is going on out here?!”  The teacher cried, arriving at last.  “I leave you alone for _two minutes_ and-  Does anyone have an explanation for me?!”

“It’s Blue’s fault, Mrs. Jones! We were just playing a game of Fish-Ball, and he went nutso!”

“I did not!  Wayne _stole_ Minion right out of my hands, and they wouldn’t give him back!”

“Liar!  We were just borrowing it for a minute!  It was just a game!” Wayne flew lower and made a show of handing the fish back to Blue.  Blue grabbed the sphere as soon as it was in reach, then quickly backed away from any and all nearby classmates.

“I specifically told you that you couldn’t hold him, then you just took him out of my hands and started throwing him around like a- like a _toy._  That is theft- no- kidnapping, and that is not okay.  You hear me?!”

“Boys, boys, let’s calm down.  Now, Wayne, I think you owe John an apology for taking his fish,”  Blue gave Wayne a smug look. “And John, you need to apologize to Wayne for threatening him.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’, young man.  We take threats very seriously at this school.  I’m willing to let it go- _this one time_ \- given the circumstances.  But if you _ever_ threaten any of your classmates again, or if you even think about threatening me, there will be quiet time in the corner, there will be a meeting with your guardian, and you may even be expelled from this school.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mrs. Jones,” he said, eyes on the ground.

“Good.  Now Wayne, what do you say to John?”

“I’m sorry I took your fish.”  He didn’t sound sorry at all. “It won’t happen again.”

“You bet it won’t hap-”  John broke off and glanced at the teacher.  “I mean- I’m sorry I threatened to you.” Mrs. Jones smiled in approval.

“I’m so glad this could be settled peacefully.  Now it’s time to come inside; we have a new math lesson to work on.”  

The students lined up and headed inside, throwing sidelong glances at Wayne, Blue, and the fish as they did so.  Mrs. Jones stopped John before he could go inside.

“And John? I think it might be best if you left your fish inside during recess.  Just to be safe.” She was expecting an argument- the boy had been very adamant about keeping his fish close to him at all times when school started- but he just frowned a little, and nodded, before continuing on into class.

_________________________

That was on Wednesday.

_________________________

The following Monday, Blue arrived to class a little early.  He was carrying a large cardboard box, and he was followed by… Minion.  The fish in its sphere now appeared to be the ‘head’ of a small, almost comical robot.  It had a small body that strongly resembled an old coffee-can, spindly metal arms and legs that hardly looked strong enough to support it, and oddly hinged metal ‘hands’ and ‘feet’.

“I wanted Minion to be able to move around more easily,” he explained before the teacher could ask.  “This way I don’t have to carry him everywhere. Is it… is it okay for school?” He asked nervously. Mrs. Jones frowned.

“It should be fine as long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.  What’s in the box?” Blue set the box down on the floor and opened it, to reveal… a large cooking pot, several ears of corn, a bottle of canola oil, a salt shaker, and what looked like the controls for a model airplane or a remote-control car.

“Last week Wayne Scott made pop-ed corn for snack time, and everyone seemed to love it.  So I thought Minion and I could make some pop-ed corn to share with the class as well.” He smiled hopefully.  “Then we can all share a snack and everyone will be happy and there will be no problems at all! It’s the perfect plan!”

“Right.”  Mrs. Jones said skeptically.  “So long as there isn’t any trouble over this, it should be fine.  Please take your things and go to your seat now; the other students are arriving.  You can make popcorn for everyone at snack-time.” Blue did as he was told, smiling in anticipation for the plan.

When snack time came around, Mrs. Jones called Blue to the front of the room to make the popcorn.  His classmates watched a little warily as he set about putting the ears of corn into the pot, carefully greasing them with canola oil and sprinkling them liberally with salt.  Blue turned to the other students and smiled.

“Today,” he said, “I am going to make pop-ed corn to share with the class.  There should be enough for everyone here, and to make things even better, I have already added the oil and salt!  This way, it will already be optimally seasoned when it’s popped, and will taste even better than any pop-ed corn you may have had in this classroom before.  Minion?”

The students turned as one to see the strange, fish-headed robot make its way to the front of the class, stumbling a little as it navigated between the desks and chairs to stand in front of the pot of corn, opposite its fellow alien, who was now holding some sort of remote-control device with a long antenna.

“Are you ready, Minion?”

“Yup!”  The fish responded, doing a little dance.  “Da da dee doh, dah. Tah-dah!”

The fish/robot stopped abruptly as John pressed a button on his remote-control.  He pressed another button, and a large hatch opened in the front of its coffee-can chest. A futuristic ray-gun unfolded from the hatch, aimed itself at the pot of corn-on-the-cob, and fired.

It Exploded!  There was a mushroom cloud of smoke and fire above the badly-charred pot!  

John tapped frantically at his controls as the fire _leaped_ into the air, reaching dangerously close to the ceiling.  

Somebody screamed.

Minion ran around in frantic circles.  The teacher gestured for calm.

Wayne _flew_ towards the fire, tipping over Minion as he approached.  Minion rolled around on the floor, unable to right himself.  John made frantic moves with his controls, as if hoping he could somehow stop the fire if he pressed the right button...!

(Or was the remote controlling the fish, was he trying to move his pet out of the way…?)

Wayne _inhaled_ the fire.  The flames and smoked funneled into his mouth, and within moments the fire was out, leaving only the scorched remains of a cooking pot to show that it had ever been.  Mrs. Jones smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Her lovely wooden school house was still intact. None of her students had been hurt. It was going to be okay; Wayne Scott had sorted out the trouble for her.  

The children cheered as Wayne grabbed John by the collar and carried him to the corner for Quiet Time.  Mrs. Jones thanked him for saving the schoolhouse and pinned a gold star on his shirt. No one noticed when Minion picked himself up and went to join John in the corner.

Everyone smiled at Wayne; everyone cheered him on for having saved the schoolhouse from the fire.  But they also remembered last week, when they had been playing a game with John’s fish, and he’d screamed ‘ _I’ll make you sorry_ ’.  

They remembered how he’d screamed  _I’ll make you pay’,_  and how this morning his fish had walked in on a robot body.  

He’d brought his fish to school with a robot suite, one with a hidden ray-gun that could set things on fire, and he had nearly burned down the school house.  

_I’ll make you sorry.  I’ll make you pay._

The children all cheered for Wayne Scott, for protecting them from the strange, angry blue classmate who couldn’t take a joke.  Of course they cheered. Wayne was a hero! They needed him to keep them safe


	3. Dodgeball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which children choose teams and play Dodgeball

_“It’s well-known that Metro Man exhibited his powers from an early age, and that he sometimes participated in team sports and athletic activities.  Did that ever create tensions in the schoolyard?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I would imagine that when picking teams, everyone would want him for their team- or everyone would want to be on_ his _team.  Were there ever any fights about that sort of thing?  Was he ever, to your knowledge, excluded from games or banned from a team because of his superpowers?”_

_“No!  No, it was cool; he was cool.  We discussed it once, and figured out a way around the issue.  Let me tell you about ‘Schoolhouse-Rules Dodgeball.”_

 

“But if Wayne is on your team, you’ll automatically win!”  Casey complained. “It’s not fair!”

“But… I can’t play on both teams at the same time,”  Wayne replied, looking from one team-leader to the other.  “What if we play two rounds, and I’m on your team for this one and Casey’s team for the next one?”

“That won’t work.  There’s not enough time left for us to play two games today!” One of the girls said.  “Maybe… you should sit this one out, Wayne? It wouldn’t be fair, since you’re the only one who can fly.”  Wayne frowned; his eyes widened as his feet hit the ground.

“No, no, we can work this out… Ah!  There are eleven of us, so the team I’m on can have five people and the other team will have six people.  That way, everything balances out.” He smiled hopefully. His playmates looked thoughtful.

“There are twelve of us,” said someone in the back.  The children turned around to see Blue frowning at them.

“What did you say?”

“I said, there are twelve people in our class, not counting Minion.  The teams would have to go six-on-six. Maybe Wayne’s team should include one of the less-”

“You’re not playing,”  Casey interrupted. “Nobody wants you on their team, and it would be unfair to play with Wayne’s team having  the same number of players as the other one.” The other children nodded in agreement.

“But-”

“Go away, weirdo.  Just go away and let us play dodgeball already!”  Blue frowned and turned back to the edge of the school yard as the balls started flying.

Wayne’s team won every game that week.

_________________________________________

“Can I play?”  Wayne looked down to see Blue standing in front of him with a hopeful, slightly to-wide smile.  “I was thinking the two of of should team up for today’s game.”

“And… Why would I let you on my team?”

“Well, I was thinking how since your team wins all the time it’s not really even, even though you’re playing five-on-six,”  He replied. A few people (mostly on the other team) nodded in agreement. “So, I thought it might be fun to try playing a round of dodge-ball two-on-ten.  You and me against the other students. Aliens vs. Humans!” Blue grinned. “It’ll be a fun experiment in dodge-ball gaming! What do you say?”

“Who are you calling an alien?”  Wayne asked, scowling. Blue took a step back.  The other children began to gather in closer, sensing and impending storm.  “I said, who are you calling ‘alien’?”

“Uh… you?”  Blue said hesitantly.  “Or, technically I guess we might count as legal citizens; I should look into that…”  He trailed off. Wayne looked very angry.

“I am not an alien!  I am a human being. I was born here in Metro City!  My parents are Alexander and Tiffany Scott, and I. Am not.  An Alien!” Blue backed away as Wayne spoke, eyes wide.

“But… but you are.  You _are_!  I remember!”

“Shut up!”  Wayne shouted, stepping forward.

“You were in the other space-pod; it bumped into mine and sent me slightly off-course; you landed in Lord Scott’s mansion…!”  Blue was starting to hyperventilate now. “Why don’t you remember? You’re an alien just like me; we’re from the same star-cluster; we landed on Earth on the same day!”

“I!  Am! HUMAN!” Wayne shouted, hurling a red dodge-ball towards Blue in a frantic attempt to shut him up.  “I am a human being! I’m _not like you_!”  He hurled another ball, and Blue dove to the ground to avoid it.

“Fight!  Fight! Fight!  Fight!” The chant began as ball after ball was thrown.  “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Blue rolled, jumped, and twisted, but the balls kept coming.  Some of them, he avoided.

“Fight!  Fight!” Most of them connected.  “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Blue looked around frantically for the teacher, but Mrs. Jones was back inside, grading papers.  “Fight! Fight! Fight!” More people were throwing balls now. They seemed to come from every direction. Blue was getting pummeled.  He tried to find a way out, some sort of cover- the wall, if he could just get to the wall they wouldn’t be able to hit him from behind- but the red missels just kept coming.

“Had enough?”  Wayne demanded, spinning a ball on one finger.  Blue looked at him from where he lay on the ground, his lip bleeding and his acid-green eyes burning.

“You can throw as many dodgeballs as you like, Wayne Scott.  That won’t change the truth. You’re an alien, _just.  Like. Me_.”  

Before Wayne could respond, Mrs. Jones came out of the schoolhouse and called for the children to line up and come inside.  There were stormclouds coming in, so they all needed to come in and do indoor activities for the remainder of recess. Wayne volunteered to pick up the balls before coming inside.  The teacher smiled and nodded in approval. Wayne was always such a helpful boy. She didn’t notice how John kept his head down to hide his split lip, or how the children seemed on edge for the rest of the day.  Outside the schoolhouse, thunder rumbled.

__________________________________

The following day, Blue was allowed to join in the dodge-ball game.  They played ‘Aliens vs. Humans’, just as he had suggested. Blue kept his back to the wall, and wished someone else- _just one person, anyone at all_ \- would join his team.

They played dodge-ball every recess for the next month.  Nobody ever volunteered to join Blue’s team, and he never won.  But, there were no more complaints from the playmates about fairness, and nobody argued about who got to be on Wayne’s team anymore.  Now everyone got to be on Wayne’s side, the winning side, the _fun_ side.  Things had settled into a new routine, and everyone was happier for it.  

Well, almost everyone.

___________________________________

It was a Tuesday when Blue showed up at recess with a helmet.

 

It was a _weird_ helmet: black, with comically huge, silver spikes stuck on it at random angles.  It was topped by a small, oddly shaped… light-bulb? that glowed silvery-blue. Everyone laughed.

“What is that, a helmet?”  Wayne laughed. “Where did you even find something that could fit over your fat, over-sized head?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, rich boy,” Blue muttered as he put on the helmet and went to stand against the wall at the usual place.  There was more laughter as Blue carefully strapped on the bizarre helmet. A chinstrap! Who uses chin-straps? What was he even thinking, with this thing?

“Weirdo!”  Jeremy called as they launched a volley of balls towards their favored target.  A cage of- were those lightning bolts?- appeared around Blue, extending from the tips of the spikes on his helmet to the ground.  He smiled smugly as the balls hit this ‘cage’ and the lightning-bolts _caught_ them and held them for a moment before _FLINGING_ them outward with great force!  

One went at an angle and crashed through the schoolhouse window; they could here the tinkling of shattered glass.  

Another went wide and hit a man in a nearby parking lot.  (Some of the classmates recognized the man as the one who showed up for Blue’s many ‘Emergency Parent-Teacher Conferences’.  There was likely to be another one soon.)

The third ball flew high, and nobody ever found out where it landed.  There was rumor that it ended up in outer space.

The fourth was headed towards Mrs. Jones.  She was backed up in a corner by the fence, petrified as the red ball came at her like a missile, then-!  Wayne Scott came to the rescue, flying in front of her in an instant; the hard rubber ball bounced harmlessly off his chest.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she said, gasping in relief.  “You really saved me there, Scott.” Wayne smiled.

“It was nothing, ma’am,” he said with a shrug.  “I was just doing what anyone would do.”

“Nonsense.   _You_ are getting a gold star,” the teacher proclaimed.  Then she turned towards Blue, who was still standing by the wall inside his helmet-lightning-cage… thing.  All of a sudden, he didn’t look quite so smug anymore.

“And _you_ are in a lot of trouble, young man!  I don’t know how many times I have told you not to bring dangerous devices to school, John Doe!  There will be a talk with your guardian about this, and I do believe you will be facing suspension this time!”

“Suspension?!” Blue cried.  “But I was just-”

“Suspension.  I have tolerated far to much of this bad behavior from you, John Doe.  No matter how many times I warn you, no matter how many chances I give you, you are always finding new ways to cause trouble!”  

“I’m not trying to cause trouble!” Blue cried, shaking his head in protest.  The lightning-bolts extending from his helmet crackled expended at the movement.  Several children ducked for cover. Mrs Jones stood firm, with Wayne Scott hovering on her right.

“I’m sorry, John Doe,” she did not sound sorry at all.  “But this bad behavior needs to come to an end. Now take of that helmet and… disassemble it before you go into class.  Mr. Scott will be monitoring you, so don’t think about causing any trouble.”

Blue frowned and stared at her defiantly- then looked down and undid the strap at his chin.  The lightning disappeared with crackle.

Mrs. Jones and Wayne Scott watched carefully as he unscrewed the light-bulb (was it a light-bulb?) from the top of the helmet and stowed it somewhere on his jumpsuit.  Everyone else was watching as well from there various assorted ‘hiding places’ (there weren’t many in the school yard, but the children were doing their best in the face of a potential explosion of laser-type object). Under the many staring eyes, Blue produced a small metal tool and pried the over-sized metal spikes off the helmet. There were a few sparks, but nothing caught fire.

When all the spikes were removed, the strap had been detached, and the helmet itself was in three large, curved black pieces, Mrs. Jones declared it sufficiently disassembled.  She directed Wayne to gather up the pieces and put them in a cardboard box on her desk while the rest of the class lined up and went inside. Blue was last in line, and Mrs. Jones had him go directly the the Corner for quiet time until his guardian could come by at the end of the school day. Suspension was a near certainty.

His classmates cheered as Wayne received a gold star for his brave act of dodge-ball heroism.  Wayne reveled in it, posing and bragging as they clapped. It was good to be the hero! It was good to have all eyes on him again.  The rest of today was going to be perfect, and nothing could possibly bring him down in that moment!

 

As it turned out, Wayne Scott was wrong on all counts.


	4. The Bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why the schoolhouse isn't where it used to be

After Wayne Scott received his gold star, Mrs. Jones gave her students a couple more minutes to settle down, then sent them back to their seats and began a history lesson: they were learning about the American Revolution.

“In April 1775, the Revolutionary forces were expecting an attack from the British, but they didn’t know where the attack would come from.  So Paul Revere told his friend to keep watch and light lanterns to signal if the British were attacking: ‘One if by land, two if by sea’. Who can tell me where the attack came from?”  Mrs. Jones looked around the room. “I’m wanting to hear from someone other than Sarah this time. Land or sea? One lantern, or two?” The students were quiet for a moment. One of the boys (Jason?  Jeremy?) cautiously raised his hand, and the teacher nodded.

“Um, it was two lanterns?  And the redcoats had a whole bunch of boats, to Paul Revere had to ride through town and wake everyone up?”  Mrs. Jones smiled.

“That’s right.  Very good, young man.  Now, if you could look at page 234 of your textboo-”

**_PHOOOOOMM!_ **

The wooden schoolhouse shook with the force of the blast!

Blue.

Everything was blue.  

The air was filled with a suffocating fog of blue smoke.  Children coughed and choked as it entered their lungs, stinging the eyes and burning the throats.  Somewhere in the back, they could hear laughter, an evil cackle amongst the coughs and panicked shouts.  No one could see who it was. All they could see, wherever they looked, was a blue haze that covered everything, hid everything from sight.  The students had never heard him laugh before, but they knew who it was.

Wayne went up, tried to fly above the smoke, but he bumped into the ceiling before he could escape the blue cloud.  There were sounds of screams, of chairs and desks crashing to the floor, violent coughing, something- (a jar of pencils, a bag of marbles?) came crashing to the floor, clattering and rolling.  And in blue haze, someone cackled.

The door opened, and two of the children came stumbling out, gasping for fresh air.  Smoked poured out behind them. Inside the schoolhouse, the smoke began to clear, enough so that they could see shapes and movements amidst the blue.  Mrs. Jones clapped her hands together loudly.

“Everybody outside!  Head for the door and- and try to cover your mouth and nose with your shirt!  I don’t-” she coughed, and gasped a bit- “I don’t want you inhaling to much of this smoke!”

With some stumbling- some running and tripping and a certain amount of panic- the children complied.  Wayne was one of the last ones out. He made sure that everyone found their way to the door safely.

When the schoolhouse was cleared, he tried to breath in the blue smoke, the way he had with the Popcorn Incident.  This was harder. There was so much more smoke this time, and it tasted- odd. Chalky and chemical, and not at all like the clean smoke from a barbecue or a cooking fire.

When the smoke was cleared away, they peered cautiously into the doorway.  Everything was touched by blue. The windows were clouded with blue residue, causing the normally bright space to be cast in shadow.  The ceiling and floors were dusted with the color. The walls, the shelves, maps and chalkboards, all were streaked and smudged blue. Half the desks were tipped over, and the chairs were shoved haphazardly throughout the room.  They too were spattered. Not a single object, it seemed, had remained untouched by the blast.

At the center of the chaos stood a boy.  The shadows in the room made it hard to see the orange of his jumpsuit (how had it remained so clean?) or the hue of his skin, but everyone recognized the strange, over-large shape of his head.  His acid-green eyes almost glowed as he grinned crookedly at his teacher and classmates.

“I think you all were right,” he remarked.  “It’s so much more _fun_ to be on the winning team.”

“Wha-  Why would you do this?!”  Mrs. Jones cried. “Why would you attack your classmates; why would you try to destroy my school?”  Blue was still smiling, but his face hardened a bit.

“If I wanted to destroy this shool, there wouldn’t be a single stick still standing, _Teacher,_ ” he spat.  “As for why I set off the bomb, well, I did it for the same reason I do anything.  The same reason I brought a laser to school and set the pop-ed corn on fire, the same reason I built that gun, and the hoverboard that caused Karen to break her leg.”  He smirked, and stalked toward his audience. The people in the doorway (even Wayne) drew back. “I’m bad, and I am good at being bad. Evil devices like the Helmet have brought me victory against supposedly insurmountable odds in Dodgeball.  But a game loses its luster for me, once I’ve figured out how to win guaranteed. I thought I’d propose a new game.”

“What kind of ‘game’ are you talking about, Blue?”  Wayne demanded, his (hovering) stance threatening. Blue stopped just inside the doorway and grinned.

“You’ll find out soon enough, Wayne Scott.  Now if you’ll excuse me…” Blue brushed past the other boy and stepped down the walkway toward the prison bus that had just pulled up.  “I believe my ride is here.” A man with a dark grey suite and a bristling mustache stepped off the bus and strode towards the group.

“What happened?” he demanded.  “I could see the smoke from across the street!  Was anyone hurt?” He scanned the group, noting the blue- paint? Dust? That marked the skin, hair, and clothing of the assembly.

“No one appears to be hurt so far,”  Mrs. Jones replied. “But I want everyone who was in that schoolhouse to see a doctor to make sure the gas didn’t have any… unpleasant side-effects.  And we’re going to need to hire a contractor to check the structural integrity of the building, and some cleaners to get rid of the residue.” The man frowned deeply and glared at the boy in the orange jumpsuit, who was standing halfway between him and the class, grinning.

“John Doe.  Do you have anything to say for yourself?”  Blue shrugged.

“I’ve already said everything I have to say,” he replied.  “If you want a full report, I’m sure some of my classmates would be more than happy to play the snitch.”

“ _Former_ classmates, I think you mean,” said Mrs. Jones, her eyes hard.  “If you think that I’m _ever_ going to allow you back in my classroom young man, than you have got another think coming.  As of right now, you are officially expelled.” This, at last, seemed to break through Blue’s attitude of calm.

“My- my academic record is imp-eh-cable!  I got an A-plus in every single class except for Music, and I can participate more if you just start doing better songs, and-”

“You are not,”  Mrs. Jones said, “Helping your case.  Warden, I want this miscreant off of school property.  I have given him far too many chances, and I refuse to put myself and my students in any further danger.  We can call and schedule a meeting with all the interested parties later,” she said firmly. The Warden frowned at her, then at Blue.

“Mrs. Jones, I apologize for John’s behavior.  I hope something can be worked out at the meeting that will benefit everyone involved.  You may not believe it right now, but he really is a good kid at heart.”

“I doubt it,” she replied.  “Children, let’s head back inside.  Start opening the windows; we want to clear out those fumes!  Wayne Scott, let me talk to you for a minute.”

The children filed inside, into the messy, chaotic, blue-spattered space that had been their classroom.  The windows were opened, and they watched as Blue was hauled into the prison bus by a pair of armed guards, grinning and waving all the way. As the bus drove away, they could see Blue staring out the back window, still grinning at them in wicked amusement.  They frowned in return, arms crossed.

Then Wayne turned from where he’d been floating outside the schoolhouse and flew under the building, lifting it up from it’s wooden stilts. The children began to cheer as they felt the building lift into the air, tilting slightly.  Mrs. Jones gave a cheery wave as the prison-bus receded from view.

They waved and cheered, because they knew Blue wouldn’t be coming back this time. They cheered, because they were all finally, finally getting a ride, chance to fly, even if they had to be inside a very trashed, blue-streaked schoolhouse to do so.  

The scenery flew by, and it was exciting, and they were safe because Wayne was taking them to visit his house, and Blue would never show up at school with a robot, laser, forcefield, ray-gun, or any other strange and dangerous device, ever again. They cheered because Blue had been expelled, and the schoolhouse was moving, and they were getting a ride, the best ride ever, and now they could finally just have some fun. 

They were safe from the strange, unpredictable whims of their alien classmate.

They were having fun, a lot of fun, on a whole new kind of ride, courtesy of Wayne Scott. What could be better?

 

They arrived on the huge lawn in front Scott Manor at about 2:30 pm.  There was only a slight jolt when Wayne set them down. Mrs. Jones herded the children outside, and they followed Wayne up the driveway.

“I brought home some friends from school,” Wayne said, grinning at the doorman’s baffled expression.  “Can we have snacks?”

 

_“Very interesting,”  the interviewer said, shuffling through his notes.  “So you’re saying the bomb left the school building largely intact, and young Metro Man moved it to his family’s property?”_

_“That’s right,” the other man replied.  “They had it cleaned and repainted and everything, but we never resumed class.  There was some sort of investigation, I think, and Mrs. Jones ended up in a lot of trouble.”  The interviewer raised his eyebrows, and gestured for him to continue. “I never found out the exact details, but apparently there were some concerns about improper supervision and insufficient emphasis on academic versus artistic fields.  Or some such.”_

_“I see.  And what happened to the school building?”_

_“I’m not sure, actually.  Wayne talked about turning it into a clubhouse or something, but his dad- Lord Scott- said that he couldn’t keep it on the lawn at Scott Manor.  I assume it was torn down.” The interviewer nodded, and made a note of that statement._

_“The newspaper article on the subject claimed that the bomb had gone off during recess, and that it had completely destroyed the school building.  You’ll understand that I’ll need to verify your version of events before I publish it.”_

_“Of course.  Naturally, you’ll want to verify these things.  If you talk to any of my old classmates, they’ll tell you the same.”_

_“Possibly, Mr. Farworth”  The interviewer said. “You’re the first one I’ve been able to track down for an interview.  Did you know that, of the twelve students originally enrolled in the Lil’ Gifted School for Lil’ Gifted Children, only two are still living in Metro City?  After hearing your account, I can understand why,” he added. Mr. Farworth shifted uncomfortably._

_“You have to understand, we were all put under a lot of pressure.  That newspaper article you mentioned, ‘Hometown Boy Makes Bad’- it talked a lot about the havoc Megamind- Blue- caused, but it skimmed over the fact that he was an alien.  The only picture they had was a grainy black-and-white one of the bus driving away; it was too far away for anyone to get a good look at his features. Mrs. Jones and all our parents had apparently signed non-disclosure agreements, and nobody really believed us kids when we said our psycho former classmate was from outer space._

_“When Megamind made his first major attack on Metro City ten years later, they looked up the old article, and suddenly we all had reporters beating a path to our doors.  They wanted the inside scoop on the kid who became a monster; they wanted to know who was his friend in school, who was his rival, who was his crush. They wanted to know if he was a ‘troublemaker’ or one of ‘the quiet ones’.  Meanwhile, we were terrified, thinking that he might remember us. In his big speech, he talked about getting revenge on Metro Man, and we remembered that we were right there with Wayne for every dodge-ball game. We were afraid for our lives.”  The interviewer nodded._

_“I understand completely,” he said dryly.  “So far there hasn’t been any proof of Megamind being involved in murder, but he is one of the smartest being on the planet.  We’d probably never find the bodies unless he wanted us to.” Mr. Farworth laughed nervously. The interviewer did not._

_“So anyway, my family left Metro City when I was in high-school, and I haven’t been back in the Great Lakes area since.  Metro Man and I kept in touch- phone calls now and then, and a letter at Christmas, but we’re not really… close, these days.  Next question?”_

_“Earlier, you said that Megamind called Wayne Scott an alien, but Scott denied the claim and adamantly insisted that he was human.  Did he ever offer an alternate explanation for his powers? It’s extremely rare for superhuman abilities to manifest at such a young age, and in most cases there’s a clear cause- radiation or chemical exposure, for example, or inherited genetic factors.  From what I’ve been able to find out so far, none of those explanations fit for young Wayne Scott.”_

_“He never told me how he got his power.  Wayne always said that they were a gift, and refused to elaborate on the subject.  I do know that he tended to get a bit… uncomfortable, maybe, whenever Area 51 or the Roswell Incident conspiracy theories came up in conversation.  And occasionally, when there was a UFO sighting, he would-”_

 

Bernard paused the tape on the interview, and reviewed his notes again.  His research into the early life of Megamind was going surprisingly well so far, but he needed more material.  It was really a shame that he hadn’t yet been able to find a copy of the Lil’ Gifted class picture that included Megamind.  Some people had no sense of historical significance in scrapbooking, but such was the way of the world. Bernard would do better.  He wouldn’t be another hack writing an unauthorized supervillain biography that was more speculation and rumor than fact, oh no. He was going to do this properly, with facts and evidence to support his thesis.

Now, if only he could get an interview with the Warden.  He’d never given any interviews before, but if Bernard could just present the right angle, the right incentives….  The man could be a goldmine of insight and information, if he would just talk.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got an Ao3 account! This fic is also available on ff . Please comment!


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